Aftermath
by Aslinn Kerridwen
Summary: Iruka made his way slowly to the village gate, or what was left of it, and that, frankly, wasn’t much. Then, as if in a dream, he walked across the bloodsoaked earth towards the place where he had last seen his parents. Last chapter
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Right now I'm studying for my finals (in 3 weeks!) but honestly I just needed a break - this story is a result of this break. It focuses on Iruka, and two major battles in his life - not because of the actual fighting but because of the aftermath. So, anyway, I hope you enjoy, and of course if you can, please leave a comment!

Oh by the way, Happy Easter to all those who celebrate it, (and those who don't as well!)

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A day after the battle Iruka walked through Konoha; ruined, burned, smoking Konoha, helping, like all the adults in the cleaning of the bodies. The bodies lying cold and stiff in the dirt, lining up the village brought back memories, dark, terrible memories, and Iruka knew that he wasn't the only one. They were all silent, the chunnin and jouunin, picking up the dead, getting everything ready for the burials. 

It was so realistic, so down-to-earth, so terribly practical; there was nothing that reminded of heroism in the slow tedious work after the battle. The shinobi of Konoha moved around stiffly, many had swollen eyes, everyone wished for comfort, Iruka knew this very well, but he also knew very well that there was nothing to say. Tomorrow, at the ceremony for the fallen maybe, but not today.

A shout and then a sob brought him out of his dull musings. Iruka looked around to see a little girl rush through the streets, sobbing, tears running down her face. She ran to one of the bodies. The one he was just going to pick up, in fact.

"Okasan!" The little girl lounged herself onto the dead body. "Okasan! Okasan!"

Iruka looked away.

"Hien!" came a shout, and a middle aged man, presumably the girl's father seized the girl and tried to pull her away. "She's gone. She's gone!" he vainly tried to explain to the child in a haunting voice. Iruka wanted to close his eyes, to shut off the sobbing of the girl and the hollow voice of the man. He wanted to shut it all out.

Finally the father managed to lead the girl away from the corpse, when they were gone Iruka picked up the dead woman in a chuunin vest. At least the identification of the bodies wasn't his job. That was the worst. Seeing who all these massacred people were. Writing down the names on long lists. Another routine job: Identify. Write down. Next. Identify. Write down. Next...and so on and on, for the whole day - you went numb after a few hours.

Iruka sighed and tried to push the thoughts away. The numbness made him feel sick. The methodical, slow job of picking up the bodies and collecting the stray weapons, the smell of dried blood on bodies and on the pavement, the silence, brought his mind to the first time he walked across a battle field the next morning. The time that forged his whole childhood, the time he shouldn't have been there. Unwatned memories stirred.


	2. Chapter 2

_They could hear it. The screams, the shouts, the crashing of the trees and the roar of the monster. Although it was taking place outside of the village they could hear it all, and they could see the bright red chakra swell in fury into the sky._

_There was panic everywhere, all shinobi except for the youngest Genin were running to the village wall, and to the battle field to help stop the monster. The civilians meanwhile, and the children were being taken to the caves and the tunnels on the side of the rock that held the Hokage monument. There was screaming, and crying, there was weeping and crying and the shuffling of numerous running feet, some towards the village wall, others the exactly other way._

_Among this chaos a little boy, looking to be around ten, with a ragged, very messy ponytail was sneaking his way towards the huge gate of Konoha. There air was thick, with smoke, pain, dust from crumbling buildings and shouting. The boy hurried his pace to escape the numerous chuunin who collected the children from the streets and dragged them to safe hiding places. But for the little boy no place was safe – no place except for where his parents were._

_He ran, blinded by tears towards the gate, circling through the narrow, now crumbled streets Suddenly a hand closed firmly over his wrist._

_"No way! You're not going there! Too dangerous kid. Come on!" the person tugged his hand. The boy however pulled his arm away with all the strength he could muster and miraculously managed to wrench free._

_"Umino Iruka! Get back here! You'll get killed!" The woman who caught him shouted but the boy covered his ears with his palms and ran on._

_He ran like that, not really realizing where he was for some time, while the screaming, the smell of blood, and the red chakra were growing stronger. The boy suddenly stopped. As he opened his eyes he saw he was already outside the village gate. He looked up, and there before him stood the demon._

_It was thrashing it's tails about, massacring the trees as well as the shinobi who were trying to stop him. Iruka started shaking, feeling the murderous intent flow over him. He wanted to drop onto the ground, curl into a ball and never open his eyes again. But then – his parent! The thought flashed hard in his mind, and the fear gave away just a little bit. He ran through the ranks of shinobi, drawn by something he couldn't understand. Somehow he knew that his parents were still alive, he knew he had to find them._

_Then among the screaming he heard his mother's voice, he squinted his eyes and saw her. She was completely bloody, but standing, supported by her husband. As he trudged towards them he heard fear filled words:_

_"We've got to retreat. We won't make it!"_

_But the Iruka's father shook his head, "We can't retreat!"_

_"We can't," added the boy's mother, she wiped her bloody face with her sleeve, "we've got to delay it till the fourth Hokage comes!" she said firmly. Her husband nodded. She looked around and then, loudly repeated: "We've got to delay it until the fourth Hokage comes!"_

_Amid the bloodshed the woman's cry was repeated from person to person, and they all brandished their weapons and concentrated their chakra._

_The young boy couldn't take it anymore, he sped up. Running through the mud towards the couple,_

_"Okasan! Otosan!" he called. Both the man and the woman looked round and stared at him with horror, as did some other nin around them._

_"Iruka, go! Go away from here! GO!" the woman called, her face suddenly pale. The boy shook his head and stretched out his arms to her. The father meanwhile, fighting down the lump in his throat whispered to a chunnin by his side,_

_"Take him away from here, please!" The chuunin nodded his head obediently and sprinted away, catching the boy as he ran, towards the village. The boy shouted and the boy cried. He waved his arms helplessly in the air but the chuunin was holding him firmly. As they sped away the boy stared into his father's sad face and read rather then heard his mother's words, "I love you Ruka! Be brave!"_

_Farther and farther away the boy was being taken, but he could still see them turn round, back to the battle. And he saw his mother pull out her katana and his father forming seals._

_"Let go of me, my mom and dad are still fighting!" he called out helplessly, and then his voice died away as he saw his father first, and then his mother, barely black silhouettes now, but he still recognized them, attack the monster, and saw the red chakra almost ripping them apart. Then everything went black – the boy passed out._

_---_

Iruka blinked his eyes and tried to ignore the catch in his throat. However he tried to push the memories away, it didn't work.

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**Disclaimer:** Iruka is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, author of the manga Naruto. 


	3. Chapter 3

_Iruka, with his hair messy and eyes swollen and red walked cautiously through the ruined village. His parent's were dead, he was already informed of that, and with the message all his fear died away, like all his other feelings. So now an eleven year old boy was completely numb across the cracked streets of the village. He felt nothing, everything had been swallowed by a black emptiness. He didn't see the bodies around him, he didn't hear the sobs of children like him. On the inside he was dead._

_It was a grey morning, even the blood splattered on the ground had lost its red color and dissolved into the grey that surrounded the people of Konohakagure. The shinobis collected the bodies of the fallen, there were tears, sobs, haunted, swollen eyes, prayers whispered, raspy breaths, things that would not matter as life went on but that now mattered more than anything in the world._

_The little boy however did not see any of this as he walked almost in a trance, not caring, not even hurting anymore. Unlike the other orphans he didn't cry, and that caught the attention of the adults, no one said anything though._

_Iruka made his way slowly to the village gate, or what was left of it, and that, frankly, wasn't much. Then, as if in a dream, he walked across the blood-soaked earth towards the place where he had last seen his parents. Flashes of the night before, of the screams, of the pain, and of the monstrous eyes occupied his mind. His head swam, he could almost hear the voices of the fighters. The grunts of men dying. Everything, the Kyuubi, the blood, the flashes of metal, the red chakra, the fire, everything span in his head faster and faster. Suddenly, not even thinking he started running, faster and faster, blindly to somewhere his instincts were leading him, but the voices, did not leave. He ran, completely out of breath, and suddenly stopped abruptly. He looked down, to the body that he had reached and his mind calmed down suddenly. The voices disappeared, and Iruka was left alone, panting beside the body of his mother. He looked around helplessly, then back at the body. He took a few steps away from it only to come up on the body of his father. He dropped to his knees, between his father and mother, his eyes clamped shut._

_Moments that seemed rather like years passed in silence. The shinobi who had come to gather the bodies of the field stood back, and let the boy come to terms with what happened. Finally, as a gust of fresh wind blew in his face Iruka opened his eyes. He glanced at his father, then at his mother. With a trembling hand he reached out and took the cracked forehead protector of his father. His mother's forehead protector was nowhere to be seen, it must have torn of during the battle. Slowly the boy reached out to the strange kunai that lay beside his mother's still open hand. He took it in his fingers and clamped his hand shut over the handle, and suddenly the tears that head not come since he got the message came. They ran freely down his cheeks and splattered on the ground, soaked into the hiate-ate he had in one hand and bounced off the blade of the kunai he held into the other._

_He remained like that for a long time._

_---_

Iruka's eyes focused. He plunged his hand into the kunai holster on his thigh and ran his fingers along that often used piece of metal. He still carried his mother's kunai all these years later. He closed his eyes for a fleeting second, and smiled sadly to himself. Pain was something that shinobi just couldn't escape from. But at least there were memories they could tent. And there were hopes that grew out of the ashes.

Uzumaki Naruto, the container of the Kyuubi, wearing his bright orange jacket, was only a street away, doing what he could to help.

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**AN:** Well, this is it, a hopeful note at the end, hope you enjoyed. And I hope I didn't mess up poor 'Ruka too much...There is an illustration to this piece on my devart page, but it's not the best, I'm not a very great artist. 


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